


Fairy

by Omnicat



Category: Four Brothers (2005)
Genre: Gen, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-05
Updated: 2012-01-05
Packaged: 2017-10-29 00:01:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/313609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omnicat/pseuds/Omnicat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack tries to get Bobby to stop calling him ‘fairy’. Their mother, Jerry and Angel think it’s hilarious, but Bobby is deeply disturbed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fairy

“Don’t call me fairy!”  
  
Jack’s cry echoed through the Mercer house, making one boy wince, bringing a grin to the face of another, and eliciting a sigh from an elderly woman. The occupants of the living room couldn’t hear what the reply was over the sound of the television, but the angry shout of frustration and the sound of a slamming door that followed made it easy to guess.  
  
“Guess Bobby finally pushed him over the edge.” Jerry remarked casually, resigning to the inevitability that was his brother Bobby.  
  
“Bet you two bucks that he’s proud of it too.” Angel said, a rare but infectious grin on his face.  
  
“No way, man. You think I’m stupid or something?”  
  
“Boys, remember the house rules.” Evelyn cut in, looking up from her games show and waving the remote control at the two brothers admonishingly. “No gambling. And if you insist on wasting your money, at least have the decency to do it somewhere I won’t notice.”  
  
“Aw, Ma, you can be such a spoilsport sometimes.” Bobby said as he came bounding down the stairs and headed for the kitchen.  
  
“Don’t you even start, Bobby Mercer.” Evelyn said sternly. “Come here where I can see your face. Why do you have to keep picking on Jackie like that, Bobby? You know it bothers him.”  
  
Bobby emerged from the kitchen, a can of soda in one hand and an apple that was already missing a chunk in the other. He held them out and shrugged his shoulders in a gesture of innocence. “I’m teaching him to stand up for himself. You’re always talking about how we should help him with that, right? By the way, isn’t there anything stronger to drink?”  
  
“I’ll take that soda if you don’t want it.” Jerry said.  
  
“No liquor on weekdays, you know the routine. Bobby, I know you don’t like to hear it, but you’re smart enough to find a more sophisticated way of helping Jack learn to assert himself.” Evelyn said, as always seeing right through her son’s ‘purely philanthropic’ intentions.  
  
“Ma, he was _asking_ for it this time.” Bobby said. “Did you see him when he came home tonight? He’s wearing eye-liner. Eye-liner, Ma! If that ain’t gay -”  
  
“It’s a part of the rock music culture for men to wear eye-liner on stage, Bobby.”  
  
Bobby laughed as he walked across the room and plopped down next to his mother on the couch. “No offence, Ma, but how would you know? You still listen to Jefferson Airplane and Joni Mitchell and Journey and all that shit.”  
  
“Was that an insult to my choice of music?” Evelyn said in mock outrage. “That’s it, no soda for you, young man.” She plucked the can right out of her oldest son’s hand and handed it over to Jerry, who was sitting on the other side of her, even as Bobby let out an indignant “Hey!”. While Jerry whooped and snapped the lip off the can, she turned serious again and looked at Bobby. “I keep informed about my boys’ interests. Your hockey, Jack’s music, Jeremiah’s schoolwork, Angel’s lady love Sofi...”  
  
“Whatever, Ma.” Bobby said with a snort. There was no winning against his own mother, even he knew that, so he let the subject slide without even commenting on Angel’s crazy girlfriend. He did get up to get himself another soda, though. By the time he sat down on the couch again, a thought came to him, and he smirked. “But fuck, I knew that whole rock star thing was too good to be true! It’s all part of Jackie’s little gay scene.”  
  
Sighing, Evelyn stood up and, knocking Bobby’s feet off the coffee table as she passed, went upstairs to check up on her youngest. If you let something like this up to Bobby’s sole discretion, she knew there was a big chance that it wouldn’t end well. At all.  
  
  
  
Bobby had been teasing Jack for a long time. There had been a lot of things over the years, but the Fairy nickname and the gay jokes had stuck, for some reason. Considering everything her youngest son had been through, Evelyn had always been proud of Jack’s ability to show his emotions openly, even when it came to ‘weak’ emotions. Bobby, though, had a different opinion. Evelyn was sure he was just concerned about Jack’s well being, but the way he showed it was so typically _Bobby_...  
  
After Jack had ‘snapped’, the situation in the Mercer household became combustible. Well, more combustible than usual. Jerry managed to convince Angel that he shouldn’t stick up for Bobby and get involved (though only barely), so the two of them simply ignored it whenever Bobby and Jack went at it. Still, despite Jerry’s admirable resolve, only Evelyn’s interference prevented the fight between Bobby and Jack from becoming a full-fledged family feud, when Bobby tried to actually convince them of Jack’s homosexuality, instead of just bothering Jack with the insinuations.  
  
Despite the lack of support from his other brothers, Bobby delighted in his ability to get a good rise out of Jack, and Jack, being the self-conscious teenager he was, couldn’t help but take the bait. Even the talks with his mother couldn’t take away his annoyance anymore; whenever Bobby said anything that even remotely hinted at sexuality, sensitivity, femininity, nudity, or bodily functions (which was almost constantly, considering Bobby’s habit of throwing a ‘fuck’, ‘ass’ or ‘shit’ into his sentences at every second word), Jack’s mood took a nose dive. After his first outburst he managed not to shout again for a short while, but as nothing else seemed to work, it soon became habit. Eventually, even Evelyn didn’t know what to do anymore.  
  
“Well, if you really can’t stand it, _make_ him stop.” she said, at her wit’s end, as they sat on Jack’s bed one day, trying to think of a solution to the problem.  
  
“How?” Jack asked with a hint of desperation in his voice. “I keep telling him to stop and I keep saying I’m not gay, but he just keeps on doing it!”  
  
Evelyn sighed and looked at him sympathetically. “I don’t know, sweetie. Nothing _I_ say or do has any effect either. Maybe it’ll help if you sit down and explain to him that you really are bothered by his jokes.”  
  
“He’ll just consider that as _proof_ that I’m a fag.” Jack muttered darkly, slouching against the headboard. He looked up at his mother sincerely. “I’m not gay!”  
  
“I believe you, honey.” Evelyn said, putting an arm around him and pulling him close. “And I do hate it that Bobby is being such an ass.”  
  
Jack’s eyebrows shot up. Evelyn winked conspiratorially. “Don’t tell your brothers I used that word. They’d only use it as an excuse to cuss.” she said, making Jack grin for the first time in days.  
  
  
  
The next time the Mercer brothers went out to play a game of hockey, Jack decided to try out his mother’s suggestion. It was a good thing, though, that his mother wasn’t there to see him do it.  
  
The game had gone as smoothly as a hockey game involving the Michigan Mauler and his brothers could be expected to go, though Jack had had to restrain himself from tackling Bobby instead of the opponent quite a few times. It was after their team had completely thrashed the other team, when Jack was exchanging his skates for his regular boots, when Bobby triggered Jack’s first attempt at proving his heterosexuality.  
  
“Hey, Cracker Jack,” he said, slapping Jack on the back as he sat down next to him to remove his skates. “Have a good time?”  
  
Jack nodded mutely and pulled the knot on his last shoelace, not about to let a mere hockey victory make him forget about his grudge.  
  
Bobby went on: “Yeah, I thought you would. It wasn’t all that spectacular, but for a fairy like you it’d be perfect.”  
  
Jack stood up abruptly, his mouth drawn into a grim line, and stomped the toe of his boot against the concrete to get it to fit comfortably. Bobby either didn’t get the hint, or he was so high on adrenaline that he was willing to risk pissing of a Jack in violent hockey mode. But he was probably just being Bobby.  
  
“I saw you make some good moves there, Jackie. Maybe next year you’ll be able to enter your fairy ass in the little girls’ team.” he said as he too stood up.  
  
“Bobby,” Jack mumbled, tilting his head up to the sky and tapping the ground with his heel rapidly. “Stop it.”  
  
“Stop what, sweetheart?”  
  
“I mean it Bobby, stop it.”  
  
“Oh, you mean stop calling you fairy? Though shit, Jackie boy. You’re my fairy little brother and I ain’t gonna stop calling you that until you admit that you’re as gay as fucking gay can be.” Bobby said in a saccharine voice, clapping Jack, who pursed his lips, on the shoulder. “And come to think of it, I won’t stop after that either.”  
  
“Third and final warning, Bobby.” he said, his voice straining to be calm. He took a deep breath to prepare for what was coming.  
  
“And then what, sis?”  
  
Jack answered with his fist. He actually managed to catch Bobby off-guard and pushed him to the ground, landing a few punches on his older brother before the latter composed himself and hit back. The tables were quickly and easily turned, and Bobby wasn’t about to go easy on his baby brother.  
  
Jack lost the fight. Badly.  
  
Bobby was not convinced that Jack was not gay.  
  
  
  
After his first failed attempt, Jack refused to give up, even though he knew every new failure could - and would - be used by Bobby to mock him even more. He just wanted the jokes to stop, and he was prepared to go all out to get that to happen. The next thing he tried was outsmarting Bobby. It shouldn’t be all that hard, Jack reasoned, considering the fact that Bobby hardly ever used his head.  
  
“Aw, look at that, little sister is cooking us breakfast.” Bobby said one morning.  
  
Having already suspected this (Bobby _was_ a bit predictable), Jack’s immediate retort was: “You’re just jealous I can cook a decent meal without poisoning myself.”  
  
“So? That’s what we got you for, fairy.”  
  
Jack tried to come up with a clever retort, but found nothing with which he could get back at Bobby without resorting to the same level of childishness his older brother was at. Well, except for putting salt into his oatmeal, that was. And then Bobby, who was still in his unnaturally good mood, just slapped him like a girl and told him that he would never get a good, manly boyfriend if he didn’t even know how to cook proper oatmeal, laughing his ass off all the while and making Jack feel really, really small. Now he couldn’t even get his brother to get mad at him! Jack dropped his head onto the table with a _thump_. This looked like it would be tiring...  
  
The feeling intensified as he was getting dressed for school that same morning.  
  
“What’s taking you so long, Cracker Jack?” Bobby yelled, banging on the bathroom door. “Can’t find the right shoes to match your dress?”  
  
“You realise that girls dig well-dressed guys, don’t you?”  
  
“Not when their noses are brown, they don’t.”  
  
“Fuck you, Bobby.”  
  
“Ew, that’s just wrong, bro. Even for a fairy like yourself.”  
  
While at school, Jack thought up countless of rebuttals to Bobby’s most frequent insults, not caring that his teachers looked even more annoyed than usual. When he got to face Bobby again that evening at dinner, though, they all proved worthless. Either he couldn’t get a word in on Bobby’s constant yammering, or Bobby didn’t get the message at all, or Bobby would laugh it off or twist it back around again to use against Jack himself, or he’d just act like a five year old. And Jack simply refused to lower himself to the level of “You’re stupid!” and “You’re stupider!”, even if it was for the sake of getting Bobby off his back.  
  
It didn’t take long for Jack’s hope for this method to be a success to be crushed. One consolation: he learned, once and for all, the valuable lesson that there is just no reasoning with Bobby Mercer.  
  
  
  
A more direct approach might work, though, Jack thought. After having tried the intellectual, Jerry-inspired thing for a while, he decided to take Angel’s example. Him being the lead singer in a band, it shouldn’t be too hard to find a couple of willing fans, even if they weren’t all that good yet. Bringing a different girl home every night was actually a lot of fun, until Evelyn realised what was going on and told him to stop before he ended up with an STD.  
  
Maybe it was for the best. If Bobby got to yell at any more girls that they were banging a fairy on the way up to his room, Jack feared that his reputation would never recover.  
  
  
  
Next on the list was something Jack had picked up from the therapists he used to see when he was still in the system, being shipped from one foster home to the next. Psych stuff usually freaked people out. It had been a fun game to play with the less aggressive foster families, if they annoyed him, but he’d given up on the practice pretty quickly after arriving in the Mercer household. Evelyn didn’t take to it, and he’d never dared to try it on Bobby, who had intimidated the living daylights out of him in the beginning. Which meant that, since Bobby had never seen him do it, it might just be worth a try to use it _now_.  
  
Jack didn’t consider this to be ‘reasoning’. It was his own private brand of obnoxious precociousness. Adopting his most emo expression and rubbing his wrists absently, Jack leaned on the doorpost to Bobby’s bedroom.  
  
“Bobby?”  
  
Said Bobby glanced up from his sports magazine. “What, Cracker Jack?”  
  
Letting his eyes wander around Bobby’s room, Jack shrugged. “Just, you know, wanted to see you. You’re not home much these days.”  
  
“Yeah, well, you know how that shit goes.” Bobby said evasively. But then he seemed to give up and sat up a little straighter on his bed, tossing his magazine off to the side. “Miss me that much, huh?”  
  
Nodding, Jack flopped down next to Bobby on the bed. That was a surprisingly good start. Maybe this time he’d actually get somewhere.  
  
“It’s just... Detroit feels empty, without you here.” he mumbled. Always stick to mumbling. Never raise your voice or address the victim directly, and most of all, don’t ever look them in the eye. “Real big, but... not safe.”  
  
He hunched his shoulders just a bit, careful not to overdo it. Bobby looked at him with a sceptically raised eyebrow.  
  
“Jackie, I know you’ve got your pretty, painted black nails to think about, and _you_ know I got your back as much as I can, but you gotta learn to take care of your own little fairy ass one of these days.”  
  
Satisfied with that reaction, Jack ducked his head ‘sullenly’ and ran a thumb along the rim of a bruise on his forearm. It was a leftover from the fight he and Bobby had had after their last hockey game, and if Bobby was paying enough attention to his body language, it might help Jack’s case. Bobby might be an annoying, violent bastard, but he was a _protective_ annoying, violent bastard. Seeing his brothers hurt had the same effect on Bobby as waving a red cloth in front of a bull.  
  
“Why do you have to keep doing that?” Jack asked tiredly.  
  
“What, call you fairy?”  
  
From the corner of his eyes, Jack saw that a smirk already was beginning to form on Bobby’s face, so he reacted quickly. “Why can’t you just let that shit rest, Bobby? It’s not funny. I mean, you’re already gone so often, can’t we spend the time we do have together without pissing each other off?” he pleaded. Bobby hated it when he pleaded.  
  
Bobby frowned. “Fuck man, it’s only teasing. You know that, don’t you? If I can’t even fucking fool around with my brothers anymore without having to watch my tongue all the time -”  
  
“Why do you have to do it?” Jack whispered in his most haggard voice. He widened his eyes dramatically and clutched at the comforter while he stared, with what he hoped was an unhinged look, at Bobby. “Is it because of something I did? Because I couldn’t stop it? Is this punishment because I was too weak to -”  
  
He didn’t finish his sentence. He didn’t need to. Bobby had tensed, his shoulders becoming rigid as he realised what Jack was talking about. When his older brother put a hand to his shoulder, Jack was shaking, and for a moment he had to remind himself that he was faking the entire thing.  
  
“Jackie, listen to me.” Bobby said seriously, looking him square in the eye.  
  
“Having something happen to you does not put you into the same league as the perpetrator. That’s not what I’m implying. I never did and I never wi -”  
  
“Then why do you keep calling me fairy and all that other shit?!” Jack snapped, his frazzled nerves playing up despite himself - and froze. With a sinking feeling in his gut, he realised that he had broken two of the most important rules of the game: do not raise your voice, and do not make eye-contact. And right now he was looking Bobby straight in the eye, the transition of his feelings from annoyed to caught clearly visible.  
  
Oh, shit.  
  
As Jack feared, Bobby narrowed his eyes and stood up, looming over him. “I like messing with your gullible little head, that’s why. But what I don’t like is my baby brother messing with _my_ head and scaring the shit outta me.”  
  
Jack gulped and stuttered: “I - I’m not messing with you! Seriously, Bobby, you think I’d fuck around about this? C’mon man, I’m having nightmares and flashbacks and all that shit. I - I’m traumatized! And you’re -”  
  
“Nightmares my ass! If you were having any fucking nightmares, Ma would’ve told me long ago. Quit fucking around with me, ya little fairy” He leaned forward until his face was mere inches from Jack’s, and growled: “You don’t look ‘traumatized’. In fact, you look like you’re telling me a load of bullshit here.”  
  
Jack just stared at him, wide-eyed, pressing himself against the foot end of the bed.  
  
“Well? You got anything to say for your sorry ass?” Bobby barked.  
  
“Alright, alright, I was only messing with you.” Jack squeaked, his voice several octaves higher than usual.  
  
“Why I oughta - you’re as bad as that La Vida Loca -”  
  
Jack did the only thing he could think of: he ran. It was the safest thing he could have done... But only relatively speaking, because Bobby was right on his heels.  
  
“Oh no you don’t! You’re getting it now, ya little fairy!”  
  
  
  
Evelyn Mercer, while used to the trouble teenage and post-teenage-but-mentally-still-only-big-baby boys could cause, was beginning to lose her patience. Whatever Bobby claimed, getting your ass kicked every so many days was not good for a growing boy. Of course, Bobby did not listen to this, and even her attempt to convince Bobby that Jack, though not exactly traumatized by his teasing, _was_ extra sensitive to the gay jokes because of past experiences, was ‘justified’ by Bobby’s everlasting goal of ‘making a man out of’ and ‘toughening up’ his brothers.  
  
To her relief, though, Jack seemed to be keeping himself rather well under it all. She was quite proud of his ‘psycho’ treatment, and commented, while dabbing a cold washcloth at an abrasion on his elbow he had gotten in his last fight with Bobby, that she couldn’t have done it better herself. Black eye and sore behind aside, he still hadn’t given up on his quest of making Bobby stop. His newest strategy seemed to be to deflect all Bobby’s insults back to himself.  
  
“You look nice in that apron, sis.”  
  
“I’m wearing it especially for you, Bobby.”  
  
It did work... Bobby was silent after the first time Jack tried that tactic. For about three seconds. Then he burst out laughing and started all over again. As much as Bobby hated to use his head, he wasn’t stupid. Evelyn just wished he’d realise this more often. By the time dinner was ready to be served, Jack’s patience was wearing thin once more.  
  
“Aw, would you look at that.” Bobby said, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye as Jack walked around the table with a handful of cutlery and napkins. “Jackie’s growing up so fast. He’ll make such a good little housewife. ”  
  
“Sorry Bobby, but no matter how much you flatter me, I’m not marrying you.” Jack ground out.  
  
“I’m touched by your feelings, Jack. Really.” Bobby said as he leaned on the table with one hand and covered his heart with the other. “But you’re just not my type. I like my girls a little more feisty.”  
  
And that was it. Evelyn could _see_ the last of Jack’s tolerance snap. One moment his eyes showed the strain to stay calm they’d had for the last couple of weeks, the next, there was a blank look in them that said, if her maternal instinct was not mistaken, nothing less than ‘Seek, kill, destroy. _Now._ ’. Evelyn quickly mumbled a prayer, begging for the next thirty seconds to be non-lethal.  
  
Jack threw the napkins he’d been laying out on the table down, grabbed Bobby by the collar of his shirt, slammed his older brother’s back down onto the table with surprising speed and strength, leaned forward - and kissed him full on the mouth.  
  
The entire house went silent.  
  
While Bobby’s eyes bulged with shock, Jack scrunched his shut tightly. What he gave Bobby was not just a peck; it was a long, hard smooch, complete with bruised noses. Bobby lay frozen, surprised beyond his temper’s reach, for all the long seconds it lasted before Jack pulled away again.  
  
With his hands still clenched in Bobby’s shirt and breathing heavily, he said: “There, happy now? Is that what you wanted, huh?! There are better ways to ask for for a fuck, Bobby!”  
  
With a last angry shove, he stormed off, out of the living room and up the stairs. Evelyn tentatively stepped out of the kitchen and cast a look around the room. At Angel’s and Jerry’s gaping mouths as their hands still hovered over the old vinyl player they’d been arguing over. And at Bobby, who was looking at her with an expression of utter shock (mixed with a fair amount of horror) from his spot on the dining table. He looked like he was twelve again and wanted her to tell him what on Earth was going on. Evelyn quickly brushed past them all, into the hall, out the front door. Once outside, she proceeded to, as Angel would later so eloquently put it, laugh her ass of.  
  
  
  
“Jack, sweetheart?” She slowly opened the bathroom door. Jack was in there, and had been for the last half hour. He was brushing his teeth frantically. A half-empty bottle of mouth water and a used up tube of tooth paste lay on the sink in front of him, and he had another tube of tooth paste in his hand.  
  
“Are you alright?”  
  
Jack didn’t answer. He spat the excess toothpaste out, rinsed his mouth with royal amounts of water and stared down into the sink with glazed eyes. For a moment, it looked like he might throw up. Evelyn worriedly stepped up to him and touched his shoulder.  
  
“Honey?”  
  
It took a moment for him to respond. “Please tell me it worked.” he croaked out, looking up at his mother with pleadingly. “Please tell me he’ll stop calling me fairy. That was absolutely disgusting! No wonder he’s so uptight - no girl in her right mind would screw him!”  
  
Relieved, Evelyn chuckled, and patted Jack’s arm. “If the look on his face just then was any indication, Bobby will probably think twice before calling you gay again. But I wouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t want to want to wrestle you for a while.”  
  
  
  
Bobby stopped calling Jack a fairy. For all of three days.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments on older fics will ALWAYS remain welcome.


End file.
